


All of the Above

by cosmotronic



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Smut, Teasing, We'll Get There I Promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmotronic/pseuds/cosmotronic
Summary: Five times Holtz got what she wanted, and one time she repaid the favour.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping it simple. No drama, no angst. Probably the tropiest thing I've ever done, but it's been so long since I just had FUN with these two.
> 
> Sorry in advance for the teasing.

 

**i. mouth**

 

Before she met Holtz, Erin never thought she'd be so bold. Never thought she'd be so… open. Never thought another could strip her of reason and restraint so easily.

And yet, time and again and with words and looks that push love and desire through her barriers to nestle warm against her soul, she is laid bare. And she would do anything.

Holtz is perched on the edge of her workbench, legs swinging. She's smiling at Erin, all bright and inviting, and Erin glides closer. An arm reaches out, encouraging, and she allows herself to be pulled in to settle in the space between her lover’s parted thighs.

“Hey you.”

“Hey yourself.”

They kiss and Erin feels the smile bend wider against her lips. She breaks away after a long minute, just enough to murmur into their closeness.

“I thought you needed me for something.”

Teasing fingers tangle in her hair, curve about her neck. She rests her hands in turn just above Holtz’s hips, warm beneath the layers, and their bodies lean closer.

“Oh, Erin. You have no idea.”

It's gentle at first, lips and tongue and little touches. It's soft, the slow dance they’ve learnt to step in perfect time, and it's enough.

But then Holtz catches her lip between sharp teeth, just a tiny nip, and the fingers in her hair grip tighter. And Erin cannot help herself, she slowly unravels her composure and lets herself _want_.

She tickles her fingers further up Holtz’s sides, sliding under the edge of the cropped shirt and she swallows the stuttered breath that breaks their kiss. It's her turn to smile, now, and she grins and pushes her hands higher and recaptures her lover’s lips with urgency.

It’s still gentle, but now it is a faster, heavier dance of passion set to the mounting rhythm of their hearts and it isn’t long before one breaks, and the other leads.

Holtz hooks a leg about her hips and they sink back onto the bench, melting together. It's an easy sprawl and her long frame covers her smaller partner well, lets their lips and hips match and her weight press down deliciously _just so_. To entice, not to crush.

The fingers in her hair disentangle, skimming down her back then dropping to the surface of the bench. There's no purchase; the position gives Holtz no leverage. Rather it's a cue for Erin, a gentle submission.

Her own hands find Holtz’s breasts, bare beneath the shirt and she cups them and squeezes ever so slightly, brushing her thumbs across peaking nipples, nails on metal. It's intoxicating, to feel the body bend instantly under her, to hear the tiny little hums of pleasure around their kisses.

It's a telling reaction. Quicker and more eager than the slow burn of their brief encounter should elicit and Erin knows Holtz has been waiting for this, thinking of her, probably for hours.

The knowledge is intoxicating, too. It gives her courage, like a liquid warmth sinking into the deepest parts of her and accelerating the catch of her own desire. Quick, thick flame after _too long_.

She can play this game, knows the boundaries, knows the rules.

“Shall I give you what you need, Holtz?”

“Here?”

“Mm.”

“What if someone hears?”

Holtz is playful, the questioning a charade. Erin knows exactly what her lover wants, what she intended the moment she'd called down to Erin for _help_.

The others are downstairs; they shouldn't be doing this. But she is bold, now.

She rocks her hips down, testing the situation, and Holtz gasps and spreads her legs wider, body arching long and head tipped back. It’s a clear signal, a switch flipped and Erin need hold nothing back.

She sets her mouth to her lover’s throat, teeth and wicked humour.

“We'll have to be quiet, won't we baby?”

Holtz hisses out a breath and nods, and Erin begins.

She leaves the pale skin of Holtz’s neck a bruising beauty of red and purple, nipping and sucking to bring the blood to the surface and to taste the rhythm of a needy pulse. One, two, _me_ , _you_.

She dips closer to the source of that beat, pushing cotton up and out of her way to press her face to flesh ever warmer, ever hotter beneath her lips.

Holtz tastes like salt and smells of strawberries and solder and she takes her time, body settled low in the cage of warm, firm thighs. Hands tracing the bumps of ribs, tongue following curves that shiver and flush before her touch. Lips caressing and laying the marks of her love from collar to navel.

It’s gentle but unceasing on her lover’s skin and a push on her nerves, and there’s a limit, Erin knows. She’s kissed the boundary before, skimmed back and forth across that line between just enough and too much, arousal and exhilaration.

Holtz loves the danger, but they aren’t there yet.

Holtz hasn’t made a sound beyond the rapid deepening of her breaths and Erin pauses, briefly.

“Holtz?”

It’s purred against the underside of her left breast, low beneath the hammering heartbeat.

Holtz rolls her head down and their eyes meet, and Erin notes the half-blown pupils and the barely-there composure and she decides.

Decides, and pushes.

She grins, wide and feral, baring her teeth. And she bites, teeth scraping over the sensitive nipple and tugging at the tiny steel bar.

Holtz slams her head back down, a _thunk_ that registers a second’s worry for Erin, and her entire upper body arches clear of the worktop and she moans. Loud and long with a drawn-out _fuck_.

Erin surges, one hand quick to stifle the sound, using her weight and her other arm to hold Holtz down.

“Sssh, baby.”

“Mmmff.”

They are safe from interruption, Erin decides; the others wouldn’t dare, would feign ignorance for them, for this. She should be embarrassed but then bold, brave Erin could never be ashamed of Holtz or their love or of the pride drawn atop her soul when she makes her lover scream.

She draws the pleasure out, tongue teasing and flicking over and over and Holtz bends into it as she takes the piercing into her mouth again. She hadn't been surprised to discover the accessory, their first time together. Hadn't been surprised how sensitive Holtz was, either.

What had surprised Erin was her own desires; how much she relished the teasing and the glint of power, how much it turned her on to reduce her lover to wordless _wanting_ with just the barest touch.

Erin _wants_ , too.

She removes the hand from Holtz’s mouth, slowly, and links their eyes. She questions with her hungry look and Holtz answers.

“Please.”

It's whispered, quiet and strained.

Erin kisses her, lips and neck and sternum and stomach, slides to stand between spread legs again. Runs her hands over clothed thighs, fingers the button fly and enjoys the way Holtz’s hips jump; subtly, then again with purpose when she lingers.

“Easy, sweetheart.”

“ _Erin_ …”

It's close enough to begging to spur her motion and Erin pops the button in a practised move and starts to pull the trousers down and off. Holtz is wearing winky-face underwear, because _of course_ she is, and Erin smiles an affectionate smile beneath the rush of lust before pulling the shorts down too. It's hardly smooth or effortless, the garments catching about bent knees and booted feet and hindered by Holtz’s lust-sloppy attempts to help.

It takes a moment longer but in the end Erin manages to unlace and work a boot free, tossing it over her shoulder and freeing one foot from the tangle of material. It's enough, and Erin doesn't want to wait a second longer.

She drops to her knees, hard. The workbench is too high, but she can make this work. She wraps her hands under Holtz’s soft pale thighs, notes how they tremble, and tugs her closer to hang off the edge of the bench, just a little.

It is clear to Erin just how ready Holtz is, desire presented in wet arousal and the smallest motions of her body.

“Hold still.”

“Fucking _hell_ , Erin. _Please_.”

It's ground out, still quiet but more insistent. Looking up along the twisting, curving line of Holtz’s body, past hollowing stomach and heaving chest to a blonde head tossed back, Erin can see the strain in her lover’s neck and the clench in her jaw.

Holtz is needy, wanting, desperate for her touch. For her.

She stares, swallows, _breathes_ , and bends her head.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**ii. voice**

 

_Erin, I’m bored._

“You? I doubt that.”

Holtz is at the firehouse. One of them has to stay at all times, really, with multiple ghosts in containment and a slightly less-than-legal nuclear reactor purring away in the basement. It’s usually Holtz, who says she’s more at home there anyway, surrounded by equipment and gadgets and tools and a stereo and all manner of things to be ‘fixed’, improved or _made better_.

Erin is bored though.

“You want me to come over?”

_I thought you wanted to get your work done without distraction?_

It’s true, she’d gone home alone, meaning to push boundaries and put her latest theory down for posterity. But after a while her notebooks of elegant equations lost their allure, and even her whiteboard with it’s beautiful dancing figures of black and blue and red and green held no sway over her drifting mind.

She’d abandoned the work for a glass of wine, tried to turn her mind to the hollower pursuits of a novel. Given up around page twenty, turned on the television instead and idly thumbed the endless channels with increasing lethargy.

_Erin?_

“It’s not working. Besides, you’re distracting me now, Holtz.”

She doesn’t want to say she's come to rely on Holtz's larger-than-life presence as a counter to her methodical process, manic energy an aura both inspiring and a strange comfort. A symbiosis, perhaps, but lately things just… feel better when Holtz is there.

_Hmm. A good distraction?_

She glances about her, at the bland walls of her apartment, surfaces still holding some dulled detritus of her life before. Academia, conformity; she’d settled. She thinks of Holtz, all bright colours and mercurial moods, strange, and oddly gentle. She thinks of the leap she’d took when she thrown caution to the wind and kissed Holtz.

She sighs. She has known contentment, but with Holtz she is _happy_.

“Always, baby.”

There’s a comfortable pause and the suggestion of motion at the other end, and Erin can imagine the wide smile cutting across Holtz’s face as she spins on her stool or does a little dance.

Erin grins too.

“Are you dancing?”

_Maaaybe..._

There’s a huff of air down the phone and a rustle and a little thump and a squeak, and Erin knows Holtz has slumped onto the old couch in the corner of the lab.

_So… hot stuff. Whatcha wearing?_

Oh.

“Holtz, I don’t think-”

_Come on, Erin. I’m bored, you’re bored…_

“But-”

_… and it’s far too late for you to come all the way down here to help me with my little problem._

She tries to hold her resolve.

“What, uh, what problem, sweetheart?”

_I’ve been thinking about you._

Damn.

 _Whaddya say, Erin? It’ll be fun._ _And hot. Yes. Mm-hmm._

The words are light but they are followed by a deep breath that sends a little shiver through Erin’s body. Maybe Holtz is further gone than she thought.

_I need you._

Holtz’s voice drops, half an octave of lust.

_And I’ll make it up to you, later._

She pulls the phone tighter to her ear, as though to trap any stray sound waves that might escape. As if even sitting alone in her apartment, she should be embarrassed to contemplate doing _this_.

But still, she lets herself _want_.

“Oh. I’ve never… fuck, okay.”

_Yeah?_

“Yeah. Um, why don’t you, uh, make yourself comfortable…”

_Way ahead of you, sweet cheeks._

There’s a curious inflection to the words. Erin can almost see Holtz's eyebrows waggling.

“Holtz, tell me you’ve not been hanging around the firehouse naked.”

There’s a longer than necessary pause.

_I’m wearing my goggles._

Fuck.

Erin closes her eyes, vision perfect in her mind of her girlfriend naked. Nude. Sans clothing, just those oversized goggles perched above a smirk. Strolling, _dancing_ about their workplace with little care beyond knowing what the thought will do to Erin every time she sets foot in that lab from now on.

_Erin? You still with me, gorgeous?_

Images in her mind of Holtz settling back on the couch, all lean lines and pale skin and tousled blonde hair with phone pressed to her ear and a wicked smile across her face. Fingers idly on her thigh, maybe creeping between her legs as she says the words that never fail to twist with Erin’s desire and make her _ache_.

_I’m ready for you, Erin._

“Oh god, Holtz. I’m here, I’m here.”

_How do you want me? Tell me. Tell me what you’d like to do to me._

“You’re on the couch?”

_Mm-hmm._

“Just sit back… legs apart… uh… I’d, uh…”

_Hey. It’s okay. How about I get things started, eh?_

“Okay.”

_So I’m on the couch… I think I’d like you in my lap, Erin. Kissing you, twisting my fingers in your hair, tugging. Pulling you close._

“I kiss you back… hard.”

_Mm. I grab your hands. Put them on my breasts._

“Cheeky.”

_Whatcha gonna do about it?_

“I just want to hold you… stroke you. Rub my thumbs over your nipples. I love the feel of you under my hands.”

_Can you feel my heartbeat, Erin?_

“Yeah.”

If she closes her eyes and imagines, _remembers_ , she almost can.

_What else?_

“You… we’re still kissing. I bite your bottom lip.”

Holtz moans and it’s only partly for show. Erin wishes she could swallow the sound, curses the distance between them. There’s an unreal quality to what they are doing, half a dream, half a memory, and she takes her welcome lucidity and her power and tries to put it into words.

“Push my hips down, into yours.”

Another moan, catching to curl in Erin’s ear.

_Fuck yes._

“Pinch you… your nipples.”

_Yes. Yes, like that._

She’d be slipping in her control now, if she were there. They both would, heat and a rapid build to more. It’s harder like this, imagination and articulation no substitute for soft, warm flesh and the taste of need.

She throws herself into it anyway.

“We sink down together, into the couch.”

_You want me under you?_

“Oh, I’m on top, Holtz.”

_Mm. You are._

She’s bolder now, encouraged.

“I push you down, watch you melt. I love you like this, Holtz. Spread out beneath me… you’re beautiful.”

_I’m yours._

There’s a darker edge to her lover’s voice now, rich and deep with desire, letting Erin know she’s picked the right play, for today. Just a bite of power, the perfect ebb and flow between them..

“Put my hands all over you, kiss you everywhere. Lick your neck… maybe use my teeth a little? That spot below your ear to make you shiver.”

Holtz is breathing heavily, the barest restraint.

“Make you beg.”

_Please._

“Make you wet.”

_Mm. Wet for you, Erin. I want you... now._

There’s a little hitched breath on the last and Erin knows Holtz’s fingers have finally dipped low. Brushing against her own core, dragging through heat and arousal, but not quite where she needs them. She’s waiting, waiting for the word.

“Don’t.”

_What?_

“Don’t you dare touch yourself, Holtz.”

_But-_

“That’s my job.”

_Yesss._

Erin settles herself more comfortably. Closes her eyes, opens her lips and takes her lover unashamedly to pieces.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

**iii. little things**

 

It’s the little things that affect her the most. The tiny nuances that texture the broad strokes of their existence.

Erin doesn’t even know when she starts to notice them, or when she learns to recognise what a single note in the performance means. What is going through Holtz’s head when she sighs, or how an _ah-ha_ is inevitably followed by a small poof.

Erin just knows these little things, now. And that makes her smile, because she loves knowing the little things about her girlfriend.

It makes her beam, eyes loving and manner soft, because knowing those little things is a comfortable truth about their relationship. It’s quiet and strong and _close_ and not like anything she thought they could have.

It makes her grin, wide and silly, because of _all_ the people to affect her so it had to be someone so unapologetically… _unique_.

“Whatcha grinning at, Gilbert?”

Holtz knows, of course she knows. Because Holtz knows the little things about Erin, too.

Knows how to use them to her advantage.

She leans forward across her workbench, hips raised, knowing how Erin’s eyes will track to that curve.

She adds small flourishes to her motions, smooth and easy, turns it into a dance. Their dance, swaying. Hips thrusting to music that Erin barely hears over the sudden pounding of her heart, the ocean roar of her rushing blood.

Erin smiles a tight-pressed smile and bops her head in a familiar echo. Her motions falter when Holtz does; slowing as Holtz tilts her head and peers closer at the equipment she’s working on.

There’s a quiet _ah-ha_ and then, very deliberately Holtz flicks her eyes up at Erin over the bench, lip trapped between her teeth.

_Poof_.

It’s unfair, and Erin’s lips part and her breaths deepen and a flutter spreads from her heart out to every extremity and a warmth spreads _lower_.

Erin squirms, drops her own eyes to her notebook and tries to remember what she was doing, a lifetime ago. Tries to ignore the little things.

Holtz comes closer, after a while. Brushes against her, leans past her to reach for a tool Erin knows she doesn’t need. Breath hot on her cheek, faux Southern accent velvet in her ear.

“‘Scuse me, darlin’...”

Withdraws with the tool in her hand, a little wink as she goes.

It’s more obvious but still nothing more than the littlest thing, just for her.

Erin knows what the wink means, what it _all_ means.

She stands.

“Holtz?”

“Mm?”

“Could you come with me for a minute?”

She doesn’t elaborate. Holtz doesn’t need any explanation and while the others clearly suspect, she won’t give them the luxury of a confirmation. She’d never hear the end of it of if she did.

She just walks to the stairs and climbs without a further word. Holtz is three steps behind her and Erin _knows_ she is smiling, smug in her manipulation.

But Erin won’t bend quite so easily. The atmosphere changes, the moment they step out onto the third floor landing.

“What was that?”

She hisses it out, affects an annoyed tone; she can have her fun too.

“What was what?”

Nonchalant, teasing.

“You. Know very well _what_ , Holtz.”

“I _do_?”

“Yes. Your… those little things you were doing.”

The air is shifting about them, heavier. Weight of meaning and anticipation; and an uncertain direction to the encounter that Holtz clearly didn’t expect.

“Well-”

“You think you can put on a display like that and what? We’d just come up here and make out?”

“Um-”

“You’d have your way with me?”

Holtz doesn’t reply at first, seems to consider.

“N-no.”

Erin waits.

Holtz fidgets.

“I… I just wanted you to notice me.”

Erin has the upper hand now, Holtz softening with the admission. She lets the shift sink into her bones for a moment, feels out the boundaries and weighs their balance carefully.

Little things, she reminds herself, sometimes have big consequences.

Then she grabs Holtz by the shirt and pulls them together, roughly.

The kiss is hard, breath-stealing. Brief. Powerful. Holtz squeaks and Erin whispers.

“I noticed you, baby. How could I not?”

“Oh.”

Erin fingers Holtz’s collar, brings their lips close again and again.

“You got me kinda worked up with that little display, sweetie.”

“ _Oh_.”

Holtz is smiling again beneath their kisses, enamoured of their game. Erin tastes the realisation and takes the lead, threading fingers through tousled gold and pushing her tongue in a deeper, wet kiss until their air is spent and they break, rapid heat and gasping breaths.

Erin recovers first and moves her lips to Holtz’s ear, drawls out her words.

“So why don’t you tell me what you really wanted, _hot stuff_?”

The pet name is a push, a tease, an apt reversal. She nips her lover’s earlobe. Holtz makes a small noise.

“What was that, Jillian?”

Erin attaches her warm lips then to Holtz’s pulse point, measures the rapid flutter beneath the thin flesh, and smiles, and bares her teeth.

Holtz _whimpers_. Seems to melt, legs liquid.

Erin has mercy, and instead she kisses the soft skin.

“Come with me.”

It’s just a murmur from her, the barest vibration of intent as she gently edges Holtz towards the open bedroom door.

When they are through, Erin kicks the door shut behind them. It’s not loud, but as the door thunks closed it’s as though there’s a final piece falling snugly into place. A lock snapping shut.

She shoves Holtz.

Her lover’s eyes widen as she falls but it’s more surprise than alarm. Holtz slumps back onto the small bed and it’s only a second before Erin follows her down, pouncing and pinning her in place.

Erin settles her body over Holtz, control like a comfort, trust like a blanket.

“Is this what you wanted?”

She pushes her hips down as the question leaves her lips. Holtz moans her reply and it’s just as obvious in the eager bend of her body as in her wordless cry.

Erin pauses. Softens.

“God you’re beautiful.”

Holtz raises a hand to Erin’s face, tremulous fingers tracing her jaw, her cheek. Her eyes are wide, lust-blown but there’s a reverence in her gaze, wonder spilling from her parted lips.

“Not like you, Erin… you’re perfect. I don’t des-”

Erin places a single finger to stifle the lie.

“Sssh.”

Follows it with a slow kiss that makes her ache, their bodies closer than air and their love beacon bright.

She’ll give Holtz what she wants. They play games with it, they tease and they come together rough and slow and hard and soft but always _that_ is the truth of it.

She starts, dragging her fingers down her lover’s torso, twisting fingers in the thin cotton t-shirt and noting how Holtz curls her own hands into the blanket beneath them.

Erin enjoys the reactions, the cause and effect. She’s won’t relent, doesn’t give Holtz a moment to recover between pulling the shirt up and off and laying lips and teeth to pale pure skin. Holtz shivers, arches.

When she moves her questing hands to the button fly below, Holtz is already kicking off shoes and scrabbling fingers over her own. Unrepentantly eager.

“Erin-”

Erin pulls back, stares down at her girlfriend. At the flushed face, overstimulated body shifting into every little contact. Unashamedly needy.

“Hmm?”

“Hurry?”

She shakes her head, wicked eyes and bared teeth. She’s going to go _slow_.

Holtz actually pouts at that, somehow still has the presence of mind to push back against Erin’s lead, flutter heavy lids and make a small pathetic sound that catches in Erin’s chest, her gut, between her legs.

It’s a good effort, but Erin has built herself with determination and steel and she doesn’t waver. Wraps her hands abouts Holtz’s wrists, keeping her lover pliant and powerless for her presentation, and lowers her head slowly, captures another kiss.

She can’t help the curve of her lips. No-one will disturb them, and she plans on spending a long time showing Holtz just how much she knows about the little things too.

The touch that makes her lover tremble, what every little gasp and moan is meant to say. The way Holtz will bend so beautifully when Erin strokes _just there_ , and how she will fall apart when Erin crooks her fingers _just so_.

Cause, and effect.

 

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Actually not sorry.
> 
> I have a [tumblr](https://cosmotronic87.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to say hello. Sometimes I make sense. One time I even said something profound.


End file.
